


WoW Drabbles

by Kalla_Moonshado



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Aluneth's an asshole, Caverns of Time, Crack, Drunken Shenanigans, Feels, Fluff, Gen, Grief, Khadgar's Curiosity, M/M, Mage Hall Spoiler Alert, Mogu Technology, Mourning, Plot-hole Fix, Pregnancy, Time Loop, Timeways, WTF, drunk raven!Medivh, sads
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2018-11-18 20:07:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11297928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalla_Moonshado/pseuds/Kalla_Moonshado
Summary: None of these will be long enough to really stand on their own, so....I figured I'd just drop them in a single story.





	1. Little Ones

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [Little Ones 小家伙们](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11304234) by [Augathra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Augathra/pseuds/Augathra)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Khadgar is fond of Murlocs.  
> Illidan is fond of Felbats.  
> Khadgar hates Felbats.  
> Illidan hates Murlocs.
> 
> .... Nothing can possibly go wrong.  
> Pure Fluff, Khadgar's PoV.

Little Ones

 

“Mrgllrglgglrlgrlgl.”

“What was that?” Illidan turned and looked at Khadgar, eying the Archmage suspiciously.

“What was what?” Khadgar looked back at him, looking as innocent as he could.

“That… noise,” Illidan mumbled. “Sounded like a murloc. One of the small variety.” He turned again, looking around for the source of the noise, and found nothing, then sighed, distracted as he was approached.

Khadgar knelt down, a very small murloc shifting out from under his robe as he did so. He picked it up and frowned. It had managed to hide for quite some time in the folds of his robe, but now…

“It _was_ a murloc!”

Khadgar froze, looking up at Illidan with an expression that very clearly said “ _….shit.”_ His blue eyes hardened slightly and he gathered the little thing to his chest and stood up. “And?” he challenged.

“Those things are … ugh.”

“At least they’re not felbats.”

“Felbats are sweet and kind, unlike what that will grow to be!” Illidan’s wings mantled as he spoke, his anger rising.

Khadgar ignored him, turning away to indicate he was done with this particular conversation. The little murloc in his arms was babbling again, seeming to be quite happy. “Don’t listen to him, little one. You’ll grow up and be a proud member of your tribe one day, if I can protect you from the Legion that is.”

He heard Illidan snort behind him, and ignored it.

~*~*~

The screech was distinct. The sound shot along Khadgar’s spine, making the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He didn’t want to turn around.

He did.

Illidan was feeding a felbat pup hanging off one of his horns a tidbit of something bloody, cooing to it as though it was the sweetest thing on Azeroth.

Khadgar sighed.

This was going to be a long campaign.


	2. How I Met Atiesh. Probably.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How did Khadgar GET Atiesh?  
> Blizzard never does tell us, and since Me'dan was retconned out of the story, and Khadgar's model has been updated in Shattrath City in Outland carrying Atiesh...
> 
> .... This is ShadowPhoenixRider's fault. In entirety. Completely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on a few offhand comments in chat with ShadowPhoenixRider.  
> This is her fault.  
> I will not take the blame for this.

Time was running short. Before he could face his apprentice, Medivh had to leave him with the tools necessary to continue what he’d started.

But how?

He idly tossed Atiesh from one hand to the other, thinking. There would be others, once he was gone, invading this tower for its knowledge and probably for some of the artifacts he hadn’t the time to hide or deal with otherwise.

There was only one way.

He reached up to the mantelpiece and took down the hourglass, resting Atiesh against the wall. A few spells later, and he had a working time-travelling device.

He wrote a long, complicated letter, folded it, sealed it with his name and sigil, and carefully tied it to Atiesh, then, turned the hourglass.

 

The tower was a wreck. It looked like it had been ransacked by angry tornados, perhaps a hurricane, and a couple of elementals shot past him, giggling to go pull down another bookshelf.

Wonderful. If Khadgar ever found out about this, he’d have a fit.

Ignoring the chaos around him, he strode along the library’s ramps (when were those added?) and found himself staring at a huge dragon. A Netherdragon of all things. What was THAT doing in his lower observatory?

Eh, no matter. He walked up to it, and it stared at him.

“Uh. Hello.” Medivh got no response. He shrugged. “I need you to hold onto something for me. For my apprentice.” No response, other than an icy stare. “Right then.”

He ran his hand along the shaft of the staff, lovingly. “May you serve him well, old friend…” he murmured, then crossed the distance to the dragon’s rear-end.

And shoved the staff up it.

The dragon roared, thrashing its long tail, mantling its wings and turning its head to destroy whatever had just shoved _something_ up its arse. A long pointy something. And that hurt!

“It won’t be there long I promise, bye!” Medivh turned the hourglass, and found himself back in his study.

He sighed, and settled down to write the letters and clues so his apprentice would find the staff. Or send someone to find the staff. As long as those creepy warlocks and ethereals didn’t find it first, that is. Hopefully that Netherdragon would bite the head off anyone who tried.

Only a solid group of well-geared and well-skilled heroes would do.

Letters, clues, and hints completed, he snuck down to his apprentice’s room, and shoved the first into his satchel.  It would be there when he died, and Khadgar would know he had left something important for him.

Not that Medivh had mentioned he’d hidden it up a dragon’s arse.

He could go to his death with a clear conscience.

~*~*~

Khadgar sat on the steps of the dais, A’dal’s chime soothing him as he found the letter in his bag after he explained to yet another adventurer how to get a key to Karazhan.

_Young Trust,_

_By the time you find this, I will be quite gone, and yes, I already know it will be at your hands. I cannot ever thank you enough for my freedom from… what I was dealing with.  I have left you a gift; hidden in Karazhan is something that will aid you, and something I feel you should have. You were my apprentice, after all, and there is no one else fit to call it theirs._

_There are clues in Karazhan as to its whereabouts, for I cannot tell you directly. I pray you do not go looking alone; the tower has become unstable and dangerous, even for you. Especially for you. Send a team of well-equipped and well-skilled champions. They will find it. Believe me._

_Always yours,  
Medivh_

Khadgar shook his head, reading the words several times. Finally, he did what was asked. There was trouble in Karazhan as it was, so he needed to send someone anyway.

~*~*~

“It was _where_?!”

“It dropped off Netherspite – a Netherdragon.  It… was in its body.” The paladin held out Atiesh, a shield around it, Medivh’s signature laced in the magic.

Khadgar blinked, and accepted the staff, staring at it. Atiesh, passed from Guardian to Guardian for… well. It didn’t matter. “Thank you. I’m not sure what it means but…”

“There’s a scroll attached!” The paladin pointed it out, and Khadgar turned the staff in its bubble. “Maybe that will explain, Archmage. Good luck! I’m expected at Gruul’s Lair.”

Khadgar waved absently, but the paladin had already run off.

He carefully reached for the scroll, finding that he could pass the shield where the paladin could not.

_~~Young Trust~~ Khadgar,_

_I do not know if you have been pronounced Guardian. It does not matter to me. You are the only one fit to carry Atiesh now that I am gone. May it serve you as it has me. If another Guardian is pronounced, let them find their own artifact staff. There are others. Atiesh is yours until you pass it along._

_-Medivh_

_P.S. No. I will not explain why it was found up a dragon’s arse._

Khadgar pressed a hand to his forehead. Even now, the benevolent trickster haunted him. He shook his head, slid the scroll into his satchel, and dismissed the shield around the staff, which hummed softly as his hand touched it.  He pulled off a glove and ran his fingers along the wood, and it zapped him, then accepted him, his entire being suddenly one with the power the staff held – as well as several memories, and his master’s presence. He smiled.

So it was up a dragon’s arse. That was so Medivh that he couldn’t be upset. He stood up, slid his glove back on and let A’dal’s chime wash over him.

A druid approached, and asked him about Karazhan’s key. Then saw Atiesh and started asking about Naxxaramus, Stratholme and something about a purification. Khadgar blinked. The druid carried Atiesh. He looked down at the staff in his hand, then at the staff on the druid’s back.

What was he going to say? “No, really, I got mine from a dragon’s butt!”?

It was going to be a long day.


	3. GET OUT

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lynne has had enough of being pregnant.  
> Selarcis has had enough of Lynne being pregnant.  
> Tshion and Jelah have had enough of Lynne being pregnant.  
> And... more than likely, Bri has had enough of Lynne being pregnant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by a 2AM conversation over Skype with the fiance.

GET OUT

 

“Get out. Get _out. Get **out**_!”

Selarcis stared at Lynne, frowning. “Do you need me to leave? Am I bugging you?”

Lynne rolled over onto her back, looking at Selarcis with pained eyes. “Go get Bri.”

“Do you have any idea what time it—“

“Go. Get. Bri.”

Selarcis sighed and crawled out of bed. He didn’t bother with a robe, but walked across the hall to Tshion and Jelah’s room, knocked twice, and opened the door.

Tshion’s sleep-tousled head lifted. “What is it? Another invasion? Has the Prophet given the call?”

“No,” Selarcis said quietly, moving towards the bed, running a hand over his brother’s forehead when he reached. “Go back to sleep, Tshion.” He moved around to the other side of the bed. “Jelah.”

“Nrph.”

“I need a portal to Dal—“

One blue, three-fingered hand lifted from the blankets, and a portal appeared. “Mmph. Cupcakes.”

“I promise. Thank you, Jelah.”

“Cupcakes…” Jelah rolled over, glomped Tshion, and started to snore softly.

Selarcis stepped through the portal, and headed for the Ledgerdemain to find Briyanna. He knew Lynne was _done_ with her pregnancy, and he was as well. The sooner the little one was born, the happier they’d both be. Well. The happier all of them would be, considering that Jelah was sleep-casting portals, Tshion was waking in panic every time he walked into their room, and…

Selarcis stopped, wincing. He had just realized he hadn’t bothered with a robe, and was standing in the middle of Dalaran’s high street, naked.

“… only a few more weeks…” he muttered, running toward the inn and up the back stairs to get to Bri’s rooms before he was spotted. “Just a few more weeks…”


	4. One Too Many

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Otherwise known as "Fuck You! :D"  
> This was ENTIRELY medivhthecorrupted's fault for the crack idea.

One Too Many

 

The guests had all left. Karazhan was quiet, other than the occasional clink as the banquet hall was tidied. Khadgar looked around. Where the FEL was Medivh?

It wasn’t like him to vanish like this. Usually he would have been the one at the gate overseeing the chaos of guests leaving and making farewells, especially for Winter’s Veil. Perhaps the Magus had retired early?

Khadgar sighed, ran his hands through his silver hair, and went back inside. No sign from the guest hall. None from the games room. The library was empty. None of the sitting rooms seemed to be in use. He wasn’t in the observatory or the font. He wasn’t in the bath. And their bed was empty.

With a sigh, Khadgar went back down the stairs and went outside, wading through the snow outside the main gates. Movement caught his eye, and he looked down to find tracks on the snow crust. He followed them… and there was Medivh, rolling in the snow, down a hill, cackling and warbling.

Khadgar closed his eyes. There were times he questioned the man’s sanity, but this had to take the strudel. His former master, now lover, was brilliant, yes – but he was also as playful as any child. It was one of the few things that kept both of them young, no matter what their ages may be. For a long moment, Khadgar debated joining the fun, but the barest hint of light on the eastern skyline above the mountains convinced him otherwise.

“There you are,” he said, loudly. “I’ve finally found you!”

The raven paused as it perched at the top of the hill. Medivh looked Khadgar in the eyes, and spread his wings. “Fuck you!” he called, cheerfully, the words slurring drunkenly. …. And then rolled down the hill, cackling.

Khadgar pulled up short, his expression rather comical. “What?” he asked.

“Fuckyou! Fuckyou!” Medivh was now hopping around in the snow, seeming to be having the time of his life.

Khadgar sighed, seeing the problem. Medivh was drunk. He ignored the cheerful mantra as he stalked over to the raven and scooped him up, ignoring flailing wings and beak, tucking the raven against his chest. “Come on. Let’s get you to bed, shall we?”

Medivh froze, his head tilting a little as Khadgar smoothed his wings down against his body and restrained him, and let out a soft coo as Khadgar began to stroke along his back.

Khadgar chuckled, carried the raven back inside, and started up the stairs. “You get into more trouble sometimes than I know what to do with. One would think you would have taught me better.”

“Fuck you!” Medivh warbled, softly, turning his head to look at Khadgar, who started to wonder if this was in fact Medivh, or just some drunk raven. The question was answered when Medivh snuggled down in Khadgar’s arms, heaving a sigh.

Khadgar set the raven down on the bed once he had reached their chambers, and with a gentle stroke to the bird’s head, went to wash up and dress for bed. By the time he returned, Medivh was sprawled across the bed, human once more. His cheeks were flushed, and he was watching Khadgar with intensity.

Khadgar opened his mouth to ask a question, but Medivh grinned at him, got up, and went to perform his own pre-bedtime rituals in silence. Confused, Khadgar shook his head, and started to wonder if he needed to hunt down warm milk so he could get to sleep. A moment later, a pair of arms draped over his shoulders, and a voice murmured in his ear. “Fuck you.” The tone was distinctly different, the inflections now clear, and it was obvious that Medivh wasn’t quite as drunk as he thought.

Khadgar had time to blush before he found himself flat on his back, being thoroughly kissed.

Sleep could wait.


	5. The Little Boy I Carried

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title inspired by "Sunrise, Sunset" from Fiddler on the Roof.
> 
> For MorganTHEkitty
> 
> Sads, Feels.  
> Grieving should never be done alone.

The Little Boy I Carried

Khadgar rubbed at his temples, heading out into the palace’s courtyard, needing air. The meetings were going on, and on … and on. And he’d thought the Council’s interrogation had been miserable.

Anduin had pushed him toward the door, seeing the strain in the young-old mage’s face. People forgot that he was barely twenty with the way he looked, and treated him more akin to Archmage Antonidas. Except… they didn’t. His robes still clearly shouted ‘Novice’, despite his studies and the books he delved into every night that had belonged to Medivh. Thinking of his former master sent a piercing ache into his heart. Even now he regretted the outcome, but he knew it was necessary. Even if he did miss the lessons, the quiet evenings, the joy in the older mage’s eyes as they discovered something new together.

A sob tore him from his thoughts. For a moment he was afraid it had come from him, but… no. It had come from a much smaller voice. With a sigh, Khadgar moved closer to the source, following soft sobs, sniffles and the sound of a much stifled misery that was screaming to be freed.

He wasn’t altogether surprised to find Varian, curled up on a bench in a partially hidden alcove, shaking and all but oozing ‘pain’. Khadgar’s eyes softened, and he slowly moved closer. He had been accepted into Terenas’ household, but … those who were from Stormwind were all older here.

“Varian?”

The boy froze, and his head jerked up, staring at the intruder with wide eyes before he started rubbing at them.

Khadgar shook his head a little, then reached to touch the boy’s shoulder. “May I join you?”

Varian sat up and turned to face the mage, nodding silently. Khadgar settled himself beside the prince and sighed softly, then wordlessly offered his arms. Varian threw himself at the mage, recognizing the offer for what it was.

Khadgar’s heart ached. Soul-wrenching sobs should never have to come from a throat so young, and he said nothing at all as he held the child until the storm was over, simply choosing to stroke the boy’s hair and back comfortingly. He offered Varian a handkerchief, and the boy took it with a nod.

“You’ve been so brave,” Khadgar said softly.

“You won’t tell anyone?” Varian asked, his voice still shaking as he blew his nose.

“I won’t,” Khadgar promised. “But you shouldn’t have to grieve alone. You’ve lost more than you ever should have, and I’m sorry that it happened.”

Varian plastered himself to Khadgar’s side, his small arms not quite meeting, his small fists curled in the fabric of the mage’s robes. “I’m not a baby,” he insisted. “I shouldn’t cry.”

“Why not?” Khadgar asked, softly. “I do.”

Varian looked up, his eyes wide. “You do?”

Khadgar nodded. “I do. Lothar too. Both of us lost dear friends as well as homes.” He shook his head. “There is no shame in it, nor is there anything childish about it. I may not have known your father particularly well, but I know he was a good man.” He could not tell the boy that he had known what would become of Llane long before what had happened, but he wished, dearly, that he could have used that knowledge to stop what happened. “I mourn for him just as much as I do for my master.” He sighed softly, then smiled a little. “Here,” he conjured a pair of cups, and offered one to the boy. “Don’t tell anyone,” he said conspiratorially.

Varian gave him a suspicious look that was so like Llane it made Khadgar hurt all the more. He looked into the cup, then sniffed at it as he took it with both hands. “I’m not supposed to—“

“It’s not strong, and I promise it will help,” Khadgar insisted.

Varian sipped. The wine was sweet, touched by berry and vineyard alike, and was just barely alcoholic enough to be called ‘wine’. The difference was immediately noticeable as Varian relaxed just a touch. Khadgar sipped from his own cup, painfully aware that the flavor was the same as one of the wines Medivh had favored.

“Thank you,” the child murmured, “it… it does help.”

Khadgar smiled. “May I ask you to promise me something?” Varian looked up at him, one eyebrow lifting a little. Oh he would be a good king one day, Khadgar knew. “Come to me, if you need company? I will gladly grieve with you. Like I said, you shouldn’t have to grieve alone.”

Varian nodded, “I promise.” He paused, sipping from his cup again. “Any time?”

“Any time,” Khadgar confirmed. “Day or night. As long as I am nearby, I will always have time for you.”

Varian’s eyes sparkled suspiciously, and he drained the last of the wine in his cup, and it vanished as he put it down. Khadgar drained his own, and simply let the cup go as it vanished. Varian scrubbed his eyes with the handkerchief, and bit his lip.

“Now, none of that. Keeping it inside will hurt worse later when you finally let it out,” Khadgar warned. “And it will get out eventually. I will stay with you as long as you need.”

Varian crawled into Khadgar’s lap and buried his face in the mage’s chest, small hands once again clinging to the fabric. Khadgar held the prince, rocking him a little and offering comfort, but nothing that would even be remotely classified as ‘shushing’.

Varian cried himself to sleep in Khadgar’s arms and even then, the mage felt no reason to move. His own grief was quiet, as he looked up at the stars overhead, so familiar to him from the nights he spent gazing at them from Dalaran, along the road, and from Medivh’s observatory… and then the grueling voyage from the dying city of Stormwind.

Lothar found them there, and Khadgar made a hushing gesture before the older man could speak, nodding at the boy in his arms. Anduin Lothar’s expression softened a little, and he approached the pair. “I was wondering, when you didn’t come back. I was half afraid you’d fled.”

Khadgar chuckled softly. “No, I just found someone who needed me a little more than a meeting that was going in circles and seemed like it would do so for another week.”

“Apparently. Well, we’re in recess for a few days now. Come on; we’ll see the prince to his bed, and then I can bring you up to speed on the little we did get done.” The warrior paused, his eyes on Varian. “Is he all right?”

“Just in need of a friend, I think. Someone who doesn’t think crying is for babies.” Lothar sighed, and Khadgar went on. “I promised him I wouldn’t tell anyone where and how I found him.”

“Found who where?” Lothar asked, a smile quirking his lips as Khadgar carefully got to his feet, still cradling Stormwind’s prince. “I admit I… never thought of how the boy was handling it. I’ve been so absorbed in having lost both Llane and Med so fast that…”

“Exactly. He wound up as a loose end. I placed myself at his exclusive disposal, Anduin.” Khadgar edged through the courtyard door as Lothar held it open for him. “I made him promise me that he’d come to me if he needed a friend.”

“A friend that young Arthas can’t be,” Lothar mused, nodding. “I’ll see that no one disturbs you during those times then. Would you like me to talk to King Terenas about it?”

Khadgar shook his head. “I will. In the meantime… I know I don’t say this often, but I need a drink. A strong one.”

Lothar looked at Khadgar, then nodded. “Aye. Both of us could, I think. In private. I left all my handkerchiefs behind though.”

Khadgar chuckled as they reached Varian’s rooms and the mage set about putting Llane’s heir to bed. “I have spares,” he said as he gently pulled the blankets over the boy’s little frame. He stepped back and looked at the child for a long moment. “He is his father’s son, Anduin.”

Lothar nodded, his swallow audible. “Just as you are Medivh’s legacy.”

Khadgar gestured, dousing all the lights but the night-candle. “I-I know.” He watched as Varian turned over, one arm moving so he could hug his pillow. And vowed that he would protect Llane’s legacy at any cost.


	6. I Remember You - We Haven't Met Yet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Curiosity prompts Khadgar to visit the Caverns of Time. If only so he could see Medivh one more time...

I Remember You – We Haven’t Met Yet

Khadgar kept to the trees as he traversed the swamp, nervous sweat trickling down the back of his neck. When confirmation had come, he had to know. He had to see for himself. He heard the voice, chanting softly, and his heart clenched…

And he leaned around the tree his back was to.

Exactly as had been described, Medivh stood there, his hands glowing, runes dancing around them, around him, along the ground.  Khadgar pulled back, his head dropping against the trunk of the tree. He could feel the tears, but refused to shed them.

Half of him longed to go speak with the Magus, but feared interrupting the timeway, even if it would always replay as it was now; the infinite would come. The infinite would be destroyed, and Medivh would…

… eventually die at his hands.

The hum of Arcane stopped suddenly.

“I can feel you.” Medivh sounded confused, and there were soft footsteps leading towards the tree Khadgar was pressed against. “I know your presence. Or… I will, Young Trust? Yes. Khadgar.”

Khadgar contemplated running. Further interference would disrupt everything and…

“You… are not what I expected.” Khadgar’s eyes snapped open, the tears freeing themselves. Medivh stood in front of him, his head canted to one side, curiosity in his emerald eyes. A hand darted out, gripping Khadgar’s chin with a velvet-clad iron grasp, and their eyes met. “I have damaged you. Or… I will.” The eyes narrowed. “I will damage you irreparably.” The eyes closed. “Damn.” They reopened and Medivh sighed. “Why are you here?”

Khadgar had remained still and silent from the moment he felt his master’s touch, frozen by fear and something more. “I had to know,” he said softly.

“You had to know,” Medivh repeated. He released Khadgar’s chin with a little caress. “Walk with me, Young Trust.” He nodded a little. Obediently, Khadgar followed. “Was it the Portal? The one that you will one day tear down, see rebuilt, tear down again, and… see it rebuilt… again? No… Something more… something more…” he shook his head. “It’s too blurry. I cannot see that far, not even here.”

“No,” Khadgar said softly. “I’m not here for the Portal.” Medivh stopped. Khadgar nearly ran into him as the Magus whipped around.

“Then why are you here?”

“I told you – I had to –“

“Know, yes, but what? What did you have to know?” Khadgar was silent, though his eyes spoke far more than he could find words for. “Ah.”

Khadgar blinked. Medivh smiled, the enigmatic smile that always baffled his student. “I—“

“Do you miss me so badly, that you would risk a timeline just to watch me set in motion the attempted destruction of a world?”

“The timeway will reset as soon as I’ve—“

“Left. Yes. I know.” Medivh turned away, looking back at the Portal. “I know. An echo, trapped here in time for all time, to play out the same thing over and over again. Just as I will in Karazhan, one day, when you have been my end. I will forever look at the stars, set down that astrolabe, and turn to look at you for the first time. Over. And over.” He sighed. “If I could break the cycle, I would ask you to end me, here. Now. I would not see myself set this wreck in motion and … I would not hurt you so terribly. But then, you would not be what you are now. You would not one day succeed me so well that you surpass my wildest dreams and hopes for you. I will leave you a horrible wreckage, and for that… there are no words to express my sorrow.” He looked up at Khadgar again. “You send others, to activate your key, and I give them one of my own, because otherwise I would not be able to give you yours. You have come here. Why will you not investigate the tower yourself?”

“I am needed elsewhere—“

“I repeat: You have come _here_. Why will you not investigate the tower yourself?”

Khadgar sighed. “I… I’m afraid. I am not yet ready to face the memories.”

Medivh frowned, lifted a hand and rested it on Khadgar’s shoulder. “I understand,” he sighed. “Though… I wish you would. I… I will miss you, as much as you miss me.” Khadgar’s head lifted, his eyes narrowed in confusion.

Khadgar’s eyes widened as Medivh sighed again, leaning forward and touching his forehead to his apprentice’s. “B-but how.. why…”

“I cannot tell you more. I have already said too much,” Medivh sighed. “Please, do not give up. Do not give in. Stay strong… I … I will do all I can to…” He stepped back, shaking his head. “I must return to the stream of time here.” He patted Khadgar’s shoulder. “Visit me again, though. As many times as it takes to believe…”

Without another word, he turned and returned to the task he had left. And even though Khadgar approached, Medivh ignored him.

Khadgar sighed, stared at Medivh for several long moments, then turned and left the way he had come.

 

Khadgar returned, a few days later. He did not bother to hide this time, but approached the Magus openly.

Medivh looked him over, and broke into a smile. “I remember you! We have not yet met, but we will. Khadgar.” He stepped forward. “You do not look well, Young Trust.”

Khadgar sighed, and shook his head.

Medivh did not remember the previous visits. Any of them.

His words were almost always the same.

And every time, once Khadgar had left, Medivh’s head turned toward the hidden gateway, and the tears fell.


	7. Butterfly Wings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by a crack conversation.  
> Khadgar + Mogu technology = Disaster.

Butterfly Wings

Medivh sneezed.

Dabbing his nose with his handkerchief, he frowned a little and looked up. There was a tingling, somewhere deep in his ‘not right’ senses.

The ley-lines spoke of … chaos.

The former Guardian closed his eyes, listening to the whispers, and his explosive sigh was not the first, nor the last.

Of _course_ Khadgar was involved in whatever was going on.

With a sigh, he put down his pen, blew on his astronomy notes to dry the last of the ink, then shut the notebook.

He may as well go find out what happ—

As though on cue, Khadgar landed on the floor of the observatory, covered in dust, dirt, and his hair was windswept, his robes soaked through.

The ceiling rained dust over the pair of magi, and Medivh stared, blinking down at his former apprentice as the younger mage groaned and stood up.

“What did you do this time, Young Trust?”

 

Khadgar was curious. He was always curious. And when curiosity beckoned, he followed it without bothering with thinking about what he was doing.

He came face to face with a box. He tilted his head, then looked around.

He was in some kind of Mogu temple, having finally had the time and inclination to visit Pandaria (now that the Sha were gone, it was safe enough for him), and of course he had been drawn to the Titans’ creations.

The box he stared at was about waist-height, about as long as he could spread his arms, and deep enough that if he leaned over it, he would not reach quite halfway across. It held few markings, other than a few glyphs that glowed blue and a bit of script that he stared at but could make no sense of.

Mogu language, or that of the Pandaren.

Probably some kind of warning.

Along one side of it were buttons, also glowing blue, with more glyphs above and below them.

Clearly, the glyphs above were instructions on how to operate, or open, the box.

He reached to run his fingers over the glyphs, and found a hastily-written note pasted to the back of the box, in Goblin. He lifted an eyebrow, knowing a few of the small, but mad, race. He smiled fondly as he gently pried the note loose, remembering his conversation with Gazlowe as he had opened a portal to Orgrimmar from Frostfire Ridge some years ago.

The note was short, and said only to ‘leave this thing alone, for freakin’ all that’s holy’.

One silver eyebrow lifted, and he set the note back down.

This thing had to be good, whatever it was.

He bent to study the buttons once more, running his fingers along them, trying to determine, without pressing any, if any were false, or would lead to a trap.

One of them depressed under his questing fingertips.

The box began ticking.

Pale azure turned silver as the eyes widened. He tried to pry the button back out. The last time he encountered something ticking… the end was not pleasant, and he’d pissed off a LOT of orcs. Then again, _that_ had been something he could throw. He couldn’t throw the box or the temple, nor could he get out before it did the same thing.

He pressed another button. A humming accompanied the ticking.

He sucked his lower lip between his teeth, and pressed another.

The ticking stopped. The humming remained. He pressed another.

A screech of stone on stone replaced the humming, and he looked up, finding the ceiling lowering. Frantically he pressed another button, then another, and a third in rapid succession.

The box sank into the floor. Ticking, humming, and making a rather ominous rumbling noise.

Khadgar swore in at least four languages, caustically enough to leave drops of acid in the… floor? He looked up, swore again, then gave up all pretense and turned to run.

He didn’t get far before he was swept up in a flood of seawater, the brine making him choke as it invaded mouth and nostrils alike. Stonework began to shake apart above him, and he cursed his curiosity to the eleven hells.

A storm of arcane followed on the heels of the flood, and without a second thought, he teleported himself back to the surface.

Except that found him dropping into the sea. The temple was gone. He frowned, then looked down as he swiftly turned himself into a raven to keep aloft.

The flash of light, followed swiftly by noise, water, and foreboding of damage caused him to wing upwards, searching frantically for a thermal that would lift him away from whatever he’d done.

Instead, he found himself drenched, and the water did more than drench him – it dispelled his transformation, and the tidal wave carried him to a nearby shore. A crab, disturbed by his sudden appearance on its beach, jabbed his arm with its claw, then closed it around his wrist. Another claw clamped down somewhere beneath him, and he yelped.

Once he’d pried the crabs off with threats of lemon-butter and a pot of boiling water, he looked out where the temple had been.

The temple was gone. The island it had been on was gone.

The water lapping at the shore was warm, and touched by arcane.

So… he blew up a temple. He still wasn’t sure what the box contained.

A scrap of paper smacked him in the face, and he pulled it off with annoyance.

‘Leave this thing alone’ it said. He sighed. Shook his head, cursed his curiosity, then started inland.

Another flash of light in the distance made him turn. A second followed. Then a third.

 

As a raven, he perched on the roof beams of the inn in Dawn’s Blossom, listening to one of the Pandaren frantically telling a group of others that something had triggered the self-destruction mechanism in several temples, and where they had been were now craters, or lakes.

Khadgar went to investigate the nearest, and found a rather large lake, where he had known an underground temple to be. He sighed. This just wasn’t his day.

 

He found the Vale easily enough, and slipped into another of the hidden temples. The stone guardians seemed to know him, however, and it wasn’t long before he found himself rudely teleported by some device that he ran headlong through…

 

“And … um…” Khadgar shrugged.

Medivh stared at him, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. “Khadgar… have you ever heard of the expression ‘a hurricane triggered by a butterfly’s wings’?” Khadgar nodded, slowly, warily. “ _You are that butterfly._ ” Medivh sighed. “Only you could manage to … I mean if you think on it… it… You. I…”

Medivh rubbed his temples. “I need a very, very strong drink.”


	8. "He Did It"

Inspired by Selarcis (the fiance) as we discussed how Vargoth canonically carries Aluneth in the Silithis quest chain (if you are not there on an Alliance mage; have not done it on Horde yet).  
Mage Hall Spoiler Alert

 

"He Did It"

Vargoth muttering to himself had gotten old, considering that he had done so oddly for some time, and it turned out he had been talking with demons the whole time.

The Council was at a loss. They had no idea what to do with the poor mage. It wasn’t as though him muttering to himself was a problem in particular, but there were times that his muttering distracted others scattered about the Hall of the Guardian.

Kalec and Khadgar were at a loss. Ansirem and Modera just tried to ignore it. Karlain suggested drowning him in the fountain.

The solution presented itself when their chosen champion returned and handed over Aluneth, saying that it was not his style, and that he much preferred Ebonchill. He had also declined to hunt down Felo’melorne for similar reasons, and said that since he had retrieved Aluneth, perhaps the Kirin Tor could find a use for it, or else put it somewhere the staff would not have access to others’ minds.

Ansirem presented the staff to Vargoth.

The Hall of the Guardian was quieter, at least, though there were some oddities. Vargoth occasionally snarled “No, no, NO for the last time I’m not dropping Dalaran out of the sky. Shut up.” or “There is nothing wrong with conjuring a snack while I work and sharing it with my colleagues for Fel’s sake!” or other such similar declarations.

And then… he didn’t say anything at all, and seemed much more pleasant once again.

Khadgar opened the door to his office, closing the door behind him and murmuring the activation for the lights. To find his office filled with kittens.

Modera settled into her bath at the end of the long day, to find that the water had turned garish pink - and so had the rest of her.

Ansirem nearly tripped over the hundreds of rabbits in his bedroom.

Karlain was the last to leave the Citadel’s main hall after a lengthy conversation with a gnome who was fascinated by some of the work going on, and was an aspiring mage.

Karlain was so engrossed in conversation, that he did not notice the mewing behind him. Or the very pink woman. Or the rabbit that hopped by his foot. Or the whelp that nibbled his robes that was in fact, Kalec.

When he turned and saw the rest of his colleagues, he was stunned speechless. When he finally found his tongue, he looked around at them, and reached out to pluck one of the four kittens velcroed to Khadgar’s robe, petting the little creature absently. “Dare I ask?”

“We’d hoped you might have seen something,” Modera sighed. “I don’t know what I’m going to do about this.”

“And the kittens? Rabbits? And… Great Father of the Arcane! Is this Kalec?!”

As they all explained what they found, none of them noticed Vargoth sneaking up behind Karlain. At least, not until Karlain found his pants yanked up to his shoulders and the ensuing shriek had died down to reveal Vargoth laughing hysterically at them all.

He stopped laughing as the rest of the Council glared daggers at him, including Karlain who was trying desperately to remove his pants from his rear-end.

“Ah. I can explain.” The silence thickened, and Khadgar took a step forward. “HE DID IT!” Vargoth pointed at the staff settled on his back, and then teleported away so quickly the others were left stunned.

They looked at one another. Finally, Ansirem spoke up. “Whose idea was it to give him THAT?” No one answered.

Khadgar picked up a stray kitten. Ansirem a rabbit. Modera just went back upstairs. Kalec squeaked. Karlain continued to pry his pants from his ass.

“We should have put that in the Vault,” Ansirem sighed. Kalec nodded, squeaking again.

Khadgar reattached the kitten to his robe and picked up Kalec. “Let’s see if we can’t get you back to normal…” He started up the stairs.

Karlain looked at Khadgar and Kalec as their leader calmly, but clearly, fled. “We could put him in the Vault…”


End file.
